Bloody Roar II: Created From Sin
by Tiger5913
Summary: Caught between being a man who had done research for good and a monster that now needed blood to survive, Stun struggles in his decision to choose a side. [Rated for mild violence]


9/24/07

Disclaimer: the characters in this fic such as Stun, Busuzima, etc. don't belong to me, although if they did, well, Busuzima would be horribly mangled by Stun several times over… ---evil grin---

Dedication: God, my parents, my 'brothers', Hudson for creating Bloody Roar I-IV and giving me a really good reason to write this story, and my beloved friends, especially VGuyver, Andrew Glasco, IndigoSiren, SilverLocke980, Leebot, Musashi Sanada, Silver Noise, TamashiiKitara123, Bakuryu 791, and all of you other wonderful readers!!

Special dedication to: VGuyver, because he requested (demanded, really, hehe) that I write a story on Stun, and for believing in me despite my spirited protests that I couldn't portray that character very well.

**Bloody Roar II: Created From Sin**

**By Tiger5913**

The stench of sin clung to his pores.

He was tainted by the company of sickening malice every night as he moved through the shadows, persistently stalking his preys for sustenance, hunger being his driving force. The mentally-tormented creature tried to assure himself that he still had a sliver of humanity left in him even after the forced transformation, because he only took the blood of the wicked. But as the endless days passed and his agony grew to the peak of almost pushing him to the edge of insanity, he wondered just how long he could truly keep his hunger and need under control. Accompanying that struggle came constant waves of loathing that swept him into a fierce current; he hated the man who had betrayed him, but he also despised himself for being so trustworthy and just plain… blind.

The memory of his former life was steadily fading away as time passed, until he could barely recall scant details; he still remembered that his name was Stephen Goldberg and his birth country was the United States. He had attended a prestigious university… somewhere… and after that, had gone off to graduate school, and when he obtained his master's degree, he began to look for a job and received an offer from a Japanese company. Having great interest in working overseas and seeing more of the world, the recent scholar had packed up his belongings, and traveled to the foreign country with very high expectations. His excitement was valid, as he immensely enjoyed working alongside so many other scientists of brilliant stature, and on the second day, he made his first new friend, a fellow colleague named Hajime Busuzima.

Initially, Stephen had been worried about the likelihood of a language barrier in his upcoming job, so he took a Japanese course and read as many books on it as he could manage prior to leaving the States. Most of his co-workers indeed spoke very little English, but he was surprised to discover that Hajime was rather well-versed, as he had apparently been studying the language since high school. The two had bonded fairly quickly, both sharing a passion for the pursuit of achieving new studies, with Stephen in the research field, and Hajime preferring to conduct the actual experimentations. They worked well together, and for a while, there was even some discussion on the possibility of one day, the pair departing from the Tylon Corporation to start their own little company that focused only on their respective areas of interest.

Years later, it was too late that he realized the nefarious nature of his trusted colleague, and in the same instance, he also found out that Tylon was his research for similar dark purposes. Stephen had entered the field of studying the human body and its genetic code for the purpose of hopefully finding a cure that could counter any one of numerous fatal afflictions. He poured all his effort and energy wholeheartedly into his work, only to be hit with the terrible revelation that his reports and discoveries were actually aiding unscrupulous experimentation on harmless people. Zoanthropy, Hajime had thrown at him, was surely far more superior than regular human DNA, and Tylon intended to explore its recesses quite thoroughly, regardless of the public dispute between both sides of the heated issue.

And in that same breath, Stephen found himself stunned with shock, and his former friend took advantage of the momentary weakness to spring forth and inject a drug into his arm. Hours later, the betrayed scientist awoke in a large, human-sized test tube, and to his dismay, he glanced around the confined space to see an unidentifiable gas seeping inside. The only other alternative being death by painful asphyxiation, he was forced to breathe in unknown substance, and it caused him to pass out again as he dimly struggled against the darkness in vain. During his woozy, dreamlike state, the man vaguely acknowledged a sharp prick in his forearm, and then cold, thin fingers moving around his body to feel the skin and squeeze the muscles, apparently testing their firmness.

When he had regained consciousness again much later, he was lying in a dark alleyway, his entire form aching with a sense of deprivation even as he felt that he had been changed somehow. His reflection in a murky little pool of water on the dirty ground told him far more than he wanted to know… he stared at the image with horror and eventually realized that he was no longer human. The man known as Stephen Goldberg had been taken away, essentially murdered in a sense, and in his place was a hulking creature with a deformed face, blue scales all over his body, and bandages that covered his major scars. Hajime… his colleague, co-worker, and most trusted friend… he had turned the enthusiastic young scientist into a hideous monster, an unnatural hybrid of a human being and a large insectoid creature.

For countless days afterward, all he could feel was the sensation of furious rage stinging his raw nerves, and he forced his ailing body to fight and push him toward his ultimate goal of eliminating Hajime Busuzima. He had battled allies and enemies alike, although he saved his brute strength for the numerous foes that were associated with the fiendish Zoanthrope Liberation Front, the group that the slimy chameleon zoanthrope was a part of. Amidst his ardent quest, he had actually felt something that resembled pity for one of his adversaries, a young teenage boy that appeared to have been brainwashed; it was apparent that Hajime had shattered his peaceful life as well. In the end, after a long struggle with an opponent that vanished at whim and used deceptive, yet cowardly tactics to avoid his impending doom, Stun was finally able to beat his despised face into the ground, and then he had left the eccentric man there with the torched laboratory.

He could barely remember when he was once a brilliant scientist, renowned for his intelligence and his expertise in research, but he could no longer live that pleasant, simple life after one cruel experiment… The mere thought of his despicable colleague was still enough to send rage flowing through his veins, alongside the foul blood of the twisted mutation that had rendered his body abnormal and weak to necessity. Stun had indeed defeated the heartless traitor that stole humanity from him, and he burned down the detested laboratory that must have housed other unfortunate victims, like himself before. But for some strange reason he couldn't place, the hybrid creature doubted that his enemy was really dead, and if that turned out to be true, then he would hunt the chameleon zoanthrope down until he witnessed his last breath.

As a farewell to his past self, he had taken on the alias of "Stun" to remind himself of the day that he had frozen in front of his former friend and been thrust into this hellish form. Never again would he allow himself to be so vulnerable and helpless.

Tonight, the former scientist cursed his unstable body as he felt it aching with the need for blood once again; food could no longer sustain him, and he refused to take the special serum that his foe had offered, so the only other choice was death. Quite often Stun had wanted to throw himself into the abyss of bleak despair and end everything, as his life was now that of a monster, and he had no real purpose for existing. But one aspect kept him alive: the pursuit of dark evildoers that hurt the innocent and ruined other people's lives for selfish or sick reasons, the same as the foul cretins that had once destroyed his humanity. Every time he looked into the beady eyes of a cowering perpetrator, he saw his colleague gazing right back at him, jilting and laughing maniacally in his face, and he was reminded anew of the treachery.

Sheathed within the hazy shadows of the night, his eerie yellow eyes faintly illuminated in the darkness as they locked onto a small group of thugs scurrying down the alleyway, about to commit a crime, no doubt. Stun purposely came to this rundown part of the city because it was common knowledge the area was unsafe for the civilians, being full of worthless punks that littered the streets. For that reason, the place was actually his favored "hunting ground," but even though the lowlifes brought him sustenance, he felt disgusted by the fact that there was so much vermin around for his selection. He didn't have to look very long or far to locate enough victims every time he needed to consume the hot liquid of their vitality, and yet their overabundant numbers clearly bothered him.

Guided by the sounds of their loud and rambunctious voices, the bandaged creature trudged along and followed them through the streets while discreetly maintaining his cover in the darkness. Stun always watched and waited for the potential victims to partake in some deviant activity before he actually made a move and struck out at them – for he had to make sure that he only attacked the guilty, after all. In the rare possibility that they ended up not doing anything criminal, then he would leave the site in search of others, but truly, that had only happened about one out of every fifteen instances. More often than not, he was able to stick with the same group of scum, and by the end of the night, he would definitely have his fill and satisfy his body's needs for the time being…

_They_ had found their unlucky bystander to ruin tonight, he discovered within a few minutes, and he observed their activity through narrowed eyes, feeling anger rise deep within him at the unfolding scene. An elderly citizen and her young grandchild were walking down the street, when their path was suddenly obstructed by three punks that emerged from the shadows, seemingly out of nowhere. With two of them standing in the front while the last participant was behind in the back, they had effectively surrounded the innocent pair within a devilishly-clever, confined pincer attack. Words were briefly exchanged that he couldn't hear, and then the old woman was swiftly pushed down to the ground, which made the little girl cry out as she quickly rushed over to her guardian's side in consolation.

The purse that was dropped during the encounter got quickly snatched up by one of the spineless thugs, and then the three immediately took off after the cruel deed was done, all of them running in different directions. He scowled at their cowardly departure and began to follow the perpetrator closest to his position; he couldn't travel very quickly due to his condition, but fortunately for him, he knew the layout of the area very well. While keeping an ear actively tracking the footsteps of his current prey, Stun cut a few shortcuts and corners, and not too long into the chase, he had caught up to the dashing punk and leapt out at him from behind. Without any preambles, the hulking hybrid grasped the hair of the lowlife and slammed his head against the hard ground, effectively knocking him unconscious using that one swift motion.

Lifting the limp body high up into the air as he arose, the tall figure leaned in closely and sank his teeth into the tender, vulnerable throat, seeking the large, faintly-throbbing vein that would fill him quickly. Hot blood gushed rapidly into his mouth when he tore through the weak skin, and it flooded his senses with immense pleasure; he drank greedily as the hunger flared up inside of him, craving more and more. The delicious red liquid poured down his eager throat and he began to wheeze when his breathing increased in reaction, indicating his contentment, and Stun felt energy slowly awakening his stiff muscles and stirring his sluggish form to life. All too soon, the flow of delicious fluid stopped, and he dropped the unconscious thug carelessly on the floor, as his sandy tongue slowly slid out just then to lick his lips, savoring every last drop that lingered.

He had finished with the present victim, but his body still wanted more… and he swore under his breath at this knowledge, cursing the fact that he seemed to need more blood each day to properly sustain himself. The hybrid creature listlessly glanced down at the fallen lowlife, not even feeling a drop of remorse at his demise, and he suddenly wondered where the other two had gone, if they were possibly nearby… He trudged around the small alleyway for a short while as he silently contemplated another area to scope out in search of additional punks that would satisfy the hunger that still ached deep within him. As Stun was mentally mapping out the quickest route to his next intended site, footsteps suddenly sounded his way and he turned his head toward the direction of the noise, naturally curious about the approaching unknown.

The tall creature slinked toward the slithering shadows, considering the possibility that the newcomer could be one of the punk's companions, and perhaps he wouldn't have to hunt any further after all…

A few minutes later, a lone figure entered the shady enclosed space with tentative steps, and then a low voice called out in question, practically whispering, "…Lokio? Are you in here? Where the hell did you-?"

Before the last inquiry was finished, the silent watcher moved toward his next prey and struck without warning, knocking the hooded teenager into the wall to bring to bring swift unconsciousness. As intended, the form soon slumped limply to the cold floor and he closed in, leaning over to turn his victim around, once again seeking the neck for easy access to the crimson flow of vitality that was promised there. A red scarf was snugly wrapped in the way, and with a low growl, he tugged that aside impatiently to free the path as he felt a familiar urge flaring up his nerves with adrenaline and eager, aching need. Unraveled in haste, the lengthy item fell to the side to reveal the head and throat of the anonymous punk, and he was reaching toward the area of sensitive flesh when his eyes skimmed over the face, suddenly staying his hand.

The youth pinned underneath his hulking form was apparently female, and a young one at that, most likely no older than fifteen years of age as far as he could tell based on looks alone.

In his pursuit of delinquents and their blood, Stun had consistently avoided the women; he might be fiendish enough to attack perpetrators for the selfish reason of sustenance, but as he was still rather old-fashioned, he only targeted males. He was not monstrous enough to overpower the weaker sex to attain what he needed, and during the rare times that he actually encountered girls, he had simply walked away, or he allowed them to run off. But now, as he was perched atop the small, motionless body of a young female with her heartbeat practically vibrating in plain sight before his eyes, he suddenly felt reluctant to let this one go… Part of his mind insisted that she was a mere youth and didn't deserve to endure his lust for her life's vitality, but the opposing side reasoned that if she was old enough to commit a crime, then she ought to be punished for it.

He started to reach toward her again, and when his fingertips just barely came into contact with her, he felt a jolt suddenly run up his arm, as if some invisible force was trying to ward him off. Growling in mild irritation, he persisted and firmly grasped her throat within his large palm, momentarily startled by how soft and pliable her skin felt against his rough, calloused palm. The growing ache in his body encouraged the hybrid creature to take this current prey and drink her blood to restore his strength, but then he made the mistake of lowering his gaze and glancing at her face. Her expression conveyed utter vulnerability as her closed eyes exhibited an air of fragile innocence, and just faintly, he could hear her strained attempts to breathe with part of his weight bearing down upon her chest.

The rare emotion that resembled guilt festered within him and Stun lifted his body off from the unconscious girl, now feeling very uneasy at the thought of tearing into her neck as he had done to her erstwhile companion. As he gazed at her still and helpless form, he realized that he did not want to satisfy his lust for blood with her, and while she might have been a delinquent, she was just so… frail and delicate that he couldn't harden his chivalry toward her. No doubt Hajime was the kind of cretin that would take whatever he needed from anyone: men, women, and even children, but the insect zoanthrope refused to join him by sinking down to that sludge-filled sewer level. His body still demanded additional sustenance, but he could take his fill from one of the many other immoral punks around the area… that is, after he decided what to do with the female youth that presently laid at his feet.

He could not very well just heartlessly leave her there in the alley, vulnerable and defenseless, unable to resist against someone that might try to take advantage of her incapacitated state. His mind actively searched for the most sensible option to take, when he suddenly remembered a pushy young woman that he had recently encountered about a week ago, who had been wearing medical attire. He got patient with her when she attempted to fuss over his unraveling bandages, and after a brief battle, he decided not to waste any more of his time and returned to pursuing his despised target. As Stun was leaving the vicinity, the blue-haired female zoanthrope had called out to him with the location of the hospital where she worked at, and told him that he should go there if he ever needed medical attention.

With one last glance at the girl, the tall creature bent down and slipped his arms securely underneath her neck and legs, and after a pause, he grasped a hold of her scarf as well before he firmed his grip and lifted her lightweight form up into the air. Although the hospital was outside of the immediate familiar area, he would take her there and leave the unconscious teenager in their capable hands, let them care for her while he returned back to the crime-filled streets. If he was lucky enough, they would never cross paths again, and at least he felt fairly certain that all she had glimpsed of him was a hulking silhouette that emerged from the shadows, and had not seen his face even for a split second. Perhaps she would presume that one of the rivaling groups had attacked her, and the knowledge might be enough for the youth to quit her life of crime… no, Stun had long since given up on hoping for anything.

Once a human being with goals and dreams, he had been turned into hideous and unnatural creature by a monstrous villain, but Stun vowed to never commit the heinous acts that would reflect his vile outer appearance. He had been created from sin and he reeked of it by willingly hanging around immoral offenders, but he did not have to become as fiendish as they were; the hunger that dictated his strength would become a weapon to use in eliminating evildoers. To remind himself of this, he gazed down at the scarf that was loosely wrapped around his arm, suddenly wanting to take it with him instead of returning it to the young female, even though the article belonged to her. Maybe if she knew what purpose that thin, seemingly insignificant scrap of red material was being used for, she wouldn't mind losing it too much; he reasoned that she looked better without it anyway, far less juvenile.

The girl tucked within his strong arms, he started walking toward the direction of the distant hospital with slow, careful steps, all the while feeling quite certain that finally, he had regained control of his own life.

**The End**

**Author's Note:** Whoa, never thought I'd see the day where I actually wrote a story on one of the background Bloody Roar characters, so to speak. Haha, please be sure to blame this on VGuyver, since he was the one that insisted on having a Stun-centric fic. I truly hope that I did all right, considering this is a character I've never written seriously before. As for news on my other stories: another requested AKS Side Story will be next on my list of uploads, and then after that, Chapter 39 of AKS, which I know some of you are really eager to see. Well, with that, I'd like to say thank you for reading, as always, and please leave a review to let me know what you think of this story!

**With love for my fans,**

**Tiger5913**


End file.
